


Those who leave...

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: General, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2003-07-28
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3863099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon the road to Alqualonde Feanor thinks back on his wife, sons, siblings and the oath. This story is part of a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Those who leave...

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

****

_“Now Feanor led the Noldor northward, because his purpose was to follow Morgoth...”_

We journey to the haven of the Teleri in Aman, Alqualonde, the haven of the Swans. The Lindar they call themselves, the Singers, the Foam-riders, the Free, the Swift, the Shipwrights, the Swan-herders, the Blue Elves…

They will help us; I know they will. Unlike her… unlike her and her foul premonitions, I spite them; I spite her…But these words… they follow me, like the sound of thunder beating like drums in the now darkened heavens;

_“You will not keep them all…”_

Of course I shall you fool, they are my sons, a part of me, we cannot be separated.

_“…One at least will never set foot on Middle-Earth.”_

Why do you say this? Are they not your sons also? Why do you pronounce doom upon your own kin…? Your own blood?

Why do you not follow?

I knew that he would come…that he would follow as he did swear upon Taniquetil…

_“Half-brother in blood, full brother in heart will I be. Thou shalt lead and I will follow…”_

He never knew of what those words would lead to…

_“…I will follow…”_

Otherwise I find it unlikely that he would have sworn them to me. Yet in many ways I begrudge him not revenge, for ‘my’ father is ‘his’, just as ‘his’ is ‘mine’; though he comes only at the urging of his eldest son. But he…he was a surprise…my youngest brother…Arafinwe… Ingoldo…

Softly spoken is my youngest brother, too softly spoken is he… uncertain I am of whether his coming will be for good or for ill; for even now he does look behind us, back to Tirion…

Our families have come, for their sons follow them, as mine do follow me. Even Irien, little sister, Laughing-maiden, you follow too; though I think not that it is from any love for me that makes you follow, but rather our brother Nolofinwe, for always have you looked to him, and always have we had our differences…

But they… they will not come, though I am not surprised by her refusal to leave; nor am I completely surprised by her, though I would have thought that she would have followed Arafinwe, for she has followed him since his birth…

But Findis… Findis, sister mine. Why do you not come? I looked after you for many a year while you were young; why do you refuse…?

_“We cannot all depart, and leave mother…”_

_“She has Faniel?”_

_“Aye, but she needs ‘me’ now...”_

She does not…

_“So I will stay… Goodbye… brother…”_

So be it sister, remain behind, caged in Aman, but we, we, will leave this gilded cage…

Fool have I been called; and fey am I thought. But grieved I am; and wasted am I too… often have I feared to go the way of mother, but when I was young…oft did I wish to…

I pleaded with them, our people, my people, against the wishes of the Valar; I defy them; but not all came… not all understood…

_“Why, o my people, why should we longer serve these jealous gods… vengeance calls me hence, but even were it otherwise, I would not dwell longer in the same land with the kin of my father’s slayer and the thief of my treasure… have ye not all lost your king?_

_Fair shall the end be, though long and hard the road…!”_

Yet still she does not come, she does not understand… she would not come… she who had been by my side since we reached our majority, and before… she the Smith’s daughter, I the King’s son… How dare she abandon me… us… how dare she! She who ‘is’… nay ‘was’ my wife! How dare she not come and yet make demands;

_“Leave me the twins, or one of them at least!”_

How dare she ask for one of ‘our’ no, ‘my’ sons; like they are nothing more than jewels to be bargained over, how dare she!

How could she ask me to make them remain; their blood calls to them. My father, their grandfather is dead, slain in cold blood by Melkor, no, ‘no’, Moringotho I name you, and Moringotho I curse you. You who slew my father; and took my jewels, my Silmarils…

I shall show her though… I shall prove her premonitions false; and declare them so for all to see…

_“…One at least will never set foot on Middle-Earth.”_

Not so dear wife, for they are my sons; and so long as I live, no harm shall befall any of them, be it delivered by Moringotho or any of his foul servants.

And I shall have revenge, for the pain that he has caused us; and I will have my jewels, my light, my…Silmarils…

For so have I sworn…

_“Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean,_

_Brood of Moringotho or bright Vala,_

_Elda or Maia or Aftercomer,_

_Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth…”_

As have they…

_“Neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,_

_Dread nor danger, not doom itself,_

_Shall defend him from Feanaro, and Feanaro’s kin…!”_

By the Holy mountain…

_“ whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh,_

_Finding keepeth or afar casteth_

_A Silmaril. This swear we all_

_Death we will deal him ere Days ending…”_

And by Eru Allfather…

_“Woe unto world’s end! Our word here thou,_

_Eru Allfather! To the everlasting_

_Darkness doom us if our deed faileth…”_

I shall have these things…

_“On the Holy Mountain hear in witness,_

_And our vow remember…”_

Or…

_“Manwe and Varda!”_

Die in the attempt.

And she shall see... She shall see that those evil omens that she doth delight in, will be proved to be nothing more than falsehoods that she has turned to in despair.

And then she will come, and then she will follow, for no matter of what has been said, she is my wife, ‘my’ wife…

And nothing shall stop us, nothing…

Not even hell’s fire itself…

__

**“There upon the confines of Dor Daedeloth, the land of Morgoth, Feanor was surrounded, with few friends about him. Long he fought on, and undismayed, though he was wrapped in fire and wounded with many wounds; but at the last he was smitten to the ground by Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, whom Ecthelion after slew in Gondolin...”**

  



	2. Authors note's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon the road to Alqualonde Feanor thinks back on his wife, sons, siblings and the oath. This story is part of a series.

**Authors note's:**

Names:

Arafinwe Ingoldo = Finarfin  
Nolofinwe = Fingolfin  
Irien = Lalwen  
Moringotho = Morgoth

I used the Quenya names throughout, as I thought it would make more sense in the context of the story.

The name that Feanor calls Morgoth is what Tolkien described as the ancient name of him, such as Feanor would use (see HoME 10 or 11).

The italic writing is used to show a memory of a previous conversation or speech. Most of which was taken from HoME 10 and 11, but also from the Silmarillion. The conversation with Findis is my invention though; as is Nerdanel’s plea to her husband, though of course Tolkien did suggest the wording in the Shibboleth.

The sister’s that I have mentioned are canon characters and appear in HoME 10,11 and 12. The inclusion of Feanor’s second sister Faniel is because my thought is that Tolkien forgot that he had already written her into the genealogy when he wrote the Shibboleth; feel free to disagree but that’s what I believe.


End file.
